


Renovation - Interlude

by Liv Campbell (perdikitti), William Alexander (zannyvix)



Series: Faerie Gifts [4]
Category: Alpha and Omega - Patricia Briggs, Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs
Genre: Accident, Bad Dog, Cute, Demolition, Living Together, M/M, Messy, Relationship(s), Silly, Werewolf, Werewolves, fae, faerie - Freeform, fixing up the kitchen, renovation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:03:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5435738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perdikitti/pseuds/Liv%20Campbell, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zannyvix/pseuds/William%20Alexander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Rob have been living together for about a year and a half when Rob finally convinces Sam that the kitchen needs work. Demolition doesn’t go exactly as planned, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Renovation - Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> We don't own anything in Patricia Briggs' universe, we just like to play in it. This story was inspired by a recent blog post on Hurog.com by Patty's husband Mike, about their renovation from hell. That was about the point that Rob decided that Sam's a carpenter and contractor, so they ought to redo the kitchen, too! I hope you enjoy their antics as much as we do.

One of the nice things about being in carpentry and contracting is if you need to do fixes or renovations around your own home, you’ve already got the skills to do it. It’s also a drawback because it’s easy to find yourself sinking your free time into the same exact stuff you do for work. When I’d sold my old home and moved to Lexington after I became a werewolf, I’d gotten this place for a song, and then sank a decade of weekend renovation work into it while I’d rebuilt my life and my business. My little craftsman style house had been in rough shape, but it had good bones, and I’d slowly fixed all the places where previous owners had gone wrong. I may have lived through the 1970s, but I wasn’t a big fan of shag carpet, drop ceilings, or cheap paneling.

By the time Rob came into my life, I had things fixed up pretty nice by my own standards. Turns out, Rob’s standards were a little nicer than mine. Living with another person comes with all sorts of compromises. It just goes along with sharing spaces. When you’re a werewolf, sometimes sharing’s harder than it ought to be. We can be pretty territorial creatures, and I’d had a long time to settle in before Rob and I started dating. Even so, Rob was pretty good at coaxing me to come around to his way of thinking, particularly where the kitchen was concerned.

Rob likes to cook. I’d found that out early on, and my stomach much appreciated it. The first change we’d had to make was pots and pans and utensils that wouldn’t trigger his iron sensitivity. My stuff was all seasoned cast iron I’d inherited from my mother when she passed on, and understandably not stuff he could handle. The stove had come next, since the one I had predated my buying the house and Rob didn’t like the oven’s inconsistent nature when he baked. I’d never noticed, since I’d been a biscuits-from-a-can kind of guy before Rob moved in with me, but Rob insisted. Something about my oven hurting his bread’s feelings.

Half the time I wasn’t sure if he was kidding or serious, but it was kinda sweet and endearing, so I didn’t argue. He talked to the cheese wheels he’d been laying up in the creamery space I built for him in the garage, too. Maybe he was right and his food projects really did have feelings. I just knew I got to eat the results.

After the oven we got a countertop proofing box, which Rob used for...something. The intricacies of bread-making were as far over my head as rocket science. Then there was a new mixer, a blender _and_ a food processor, and my old microwave got ditched for a snazzy new model. The old fridge didn’t have enough storage space, so it got retired to the garage to hold more of Rob’s cheeses, and a sleek new cream colored one replaced it. I even gave in and did the cabinet work to have a dishwasher installed so we didn’t have to do everything in the sink. Rob’s cooking generated a lot more dirty dishes than mine had. I did have a plumber come and do the install and hookup, though. Woodwork I can do, but pipe fitting is finicky in ways I didn’t want to deal with.

No stainless steel here. Everything was carefully picked to give my fae boyfriend the least amount of trouble possible, which was trickier than it seemed. A lotta suppliers still pushed the stainless stuff for its timelessness. Sooner or later, it always came back in vogue. We were more interested in Rob being able to use everything without blistering himself on exposed steel. It was a pain to find everything we needed, but I had more connections than most folks wanting to redo their kitchens. Bit by bit, we found all the appliances and the new faucets Rob had wanted. Between the results of Rob’s cooking and his other, naked-er ways of showing appreciation, I was feeling pretty mellow about all the changes to my territory.

Then he started in on me about the countertops.

“What’s wrong with the countertops we have?” I asked, just to see what his reasoning was this time.

Rob gave me an arch look. “Sam, you work with interior designers all the time. Do you really have to ask?”

I shrugged. “So they’re a little older, but they’re solid, no scorch marks, nothin’ peeling up. The backsplash is sound. What’s the problem?”

“They’re also an unfortunate green paisley laminate,” Rob pointed out dryly.

“And?” I asked, smiling at him.

His eyes slid down me at a slow smolder. “Darling, even _your_ abs look terrible with paisley.”

I laughed. “Fair ’nough. Replacin’ countertops ain’t like puttin’ new appliances in, though. You’re talkin’ some serious renovation, and soon as you start tearin’ stuff up, you always find other things that gotta be fixed up, too. That could mean a couple weeks or more without a proper kitchen. You sure you’re up for that much takeout?” I teased.

Rob blanched, collapsing on the couch like some sort of old fashioned movie star in a fainting spell. “Maybe we should stay at my apartment during the repairs.”

“Not a bad idea,” I said, sitting down next to him. “I’ve seen enough folks try to live through a major renovation to know it can be a giant pain. Usually they give up and stay at a hotel until the worst is over.” I glanced over at my aging coonhound on her doggie bed across the room. “Does your place allow dogs?”

Rob grinned and wiggled his fingers. Rosie sort of melted away into a rug. “They won’t even know she’s there.”

I frowned at him. “Quit turnin’ my dog into things,” I said.

“It’s just illusion,” he assured me, snapping his fingers. My snoozing pooch returned to her usual form.

“How did you plan to explain why the rug barked at strangers, then?” I asked him.

Rob snorted and sat up on the couch. “We could always put your delightfully fluffy ass on a leash and see how management reacted,” he suggested slyly. “They’d have no objections to Rosie after seeing Cookie.”

“I keep tellin’ you I didn’t pick that name,” I said with a sigh. The Marrok decreed that every werewolf had to wear a collar in wolf form, and the names on the tags had to be cute and friendly. My patchy-colored wolf form had reminded somebody of cookie dough when I’d been new, and the name had stuck.

His grin widened when he licked his lips. “I could go for a cookie right now.”

“You’re incorrigible, ” I grumbled.

“Naturally.”

Rob’s sense of humor unsettled me sometimes, but half the fun for him seemed to be keeping me off balance and seeing how I’d react. “Marble,” he added.

“What?”

“Your fur looks like marble when the wolf is out. That decides it. We need marble counters.”

I shook my head. “If you say so, love.”

He grinned and leaned over to kiss me. Though I might grump at his antics, I’d put up with a hell of a lot to keep him in my life.

 

~~~~~~

 

I managed to convince Rob that we needed to do some planning before we dove right in and renovated the kitchen. He was willing to listen since this was my area of expertise. I hadn’t been exaggerating when I said kitchen jobs could be a real bear. While I’d fixed up most of the rest of the house in the years I’d owned it, the kitchen was still more or less original, and I had no idea what we’d find when I started prying things up. Rob, of course, had plenty of ideas if not practical experience. Most of the ideas came in the form of pictures he found in magazines and on the internet, and most of _those_ were from multi-million dollar homes with kitchens bigger than my entire house.

Once I had measurements, I started talking to a couple of local suppliers I knew, and got a few samples so we could pick the right colored stone. It was part of the remodel process I didn’t usually have to deal with, since most of the folks that hired me worked with interior designers or had already made those decisions. My job was just to install, not comment on anybody’s taste, or lack thereof.

As I expected, as soon as Rob had countertop samples to look at, he started talking about changing up the cabinets, too. My boyfriend had been bitten hard by the remodeling bug. Truth be told, I didn’t mind it too much. My income had been a lot steadier since I joined the pack and didn’t owe the local vampires protection money anymore. Alec paid me to fix his house when wolves broke things, too, and Collin had a couple rental homes he’d hired me to do handyman repairs for. Between what I brought in, and what Rob could contribute, we had the budget for it. The bigger problem was space.

“That island ain’t gonna fit there, love,” I told him gently when he came back to me with yet another new design idea.

“Sure it will. We just need to knock out a wall.”

I winced. “Some of these walls are load bearin’ y’know. We can’t just knock stuff down willy nilly.”

“But think of how much it’ll open up the floor plan.” Rob smirked at me.

“Open floor plan’s no good if the roof falls in,” I pointed out. “You decided on which stone you like best yet?”

“Which one is the most expensive?” he asked, grinning like a cheshire cat.

“You know that ain’t the best way to pick somethin’,” I said, giving him a look. Rob was just twisting my tail for the fun of it. “That green paisley countertop you hate so much might’ve been the most expensive option in its day.”

He smiled, tugging on my earlobe. “I know. You’re just so cute when you’re flustered.” He leaned past me to look at the samples I’d brought home. “I like this one.” Rob held up a piece of white marble with deep grey veins running through it. It caught the light and reflected it just a little, not one of my boyfriend’s magic tricks but just the beauty of the stone. It reminded me of the moon when she was peaceful. “What if we did this for the perimeter cabinets, and a complimentary granite for the island? It won’t scratch as much that way, and I’ll still have a nice marble workspace for baking.”

“That’ll look nice,” I agreed. I gave the walls a glance with a critical eye. “Might be able to open things up a little. Most of the renovation I’ve done to date’s been mainly cosmetic, gettin’ rid of the paneling and drop ceilings, refinishin’ the floors, puttin’ up new trim, that sort of thing.”

“And it looks lovely. It’s just so dark, it makes the bread sad.” I gave him another look and Rob grinned. “ _And_ deprives you of the beautiful sight of me in the kitchen in full sunlight. Or moonlight, if you prefer. I know you wolves enjoy the moonlight, and the moon thinks I’m beautiful too.”

“Everyone thinks you’re beautiful,” I said with a grin of my own, and slung an arm around his shoulders. “It’s gonna be a lotta work, but it’ll be nice when it’s done. I suppose it was about time the kitchen got an update, anyway.”

“It won’t have to be jealous of me once it’s had a little bit of work,” he agreed.

“You are ridiculous,” I informed him, and kissed his forehead. “But I love you. I’ll talk to my supplier and see how long it’ll take to get the stone in. No point in startin’ demo until I know what time frame we’re lookin’ at.”

Rob laughed. “I _suppose_ I can cook in here as things stand for now.”

“You have been so far.” I chuckled. “And I look forward to seein’ what you come up with once we’re through, assumin’ we survive the remodel process. I’ve watched it tank a relationship or two.”

“Oh, there shouldn’t be any difficulties there,” Rob said, slipping out from under my arm to sashay away. “I’m sleeping with the contractor, after all.”

He left the kitchen while I tried not to bust a gut laughing.

 

~~~~~~

 

Later that week, I had estimates on cost and order time worked out. Rob groused a little that it was going to take nearly a month all together to get the new cabinets and countertop in, but I’d warned him it might take time, so he didn’t complain too much. He had some late night function going on at the track that would keep him out until the wee hours of the morning bartending, so I went to bed by myself that evening.

I don’t know how it is for other werewolves, or maybe it was just sleeping alone, but every so often I get a humdinger of a nightmare. At least I have cause. Just about dying will do that to you. Problem is, strong emotions bring out the wolf, especially when you’re dominant the way I am. My dream of falling from the train bridge again was rudely interrupted by the floor of my bedroom when my flailing tumbled me right off the mattress. While that woke me up, it also made me realize I was already partway through the Change. My wolf didn’t realize it couldn’t protect me from myself or my own memories. When that happens, I’ve found it’s easier to ride it out than try to stop it.

It hurts. No matter how many times I’ve become the wolf, it’s fifteen to twenty minutes of agony each and every occasion. When it was finally over, my wolf lay panting and wobbly on the bedroom rug in the shreds of my pajama pants, whining a little with each breath as the last of the stinging tingles faded. Still curled up on the bed, Rosie raised her head and thumped her whip-tail on the coverlet a couple times. Poor old pooch. For her, my wolf had always meant long runs in the woods, but she was getting on in years and no longer the spry pup she’d been in her youth. I heaved myself to four feet and trotted over to touch noses with my dog. She sighed and put her head back down when I didn’t signal her to follow me.

A glance at the clock showed it was pretty late, but Rob wouldn’t be home for a little while yet. The other side effect of an unexpected Change was that I was _starving_. I couldn’t shift back right away, or it would just make things worse. I was just going to have to fend for myself. Stupid nightmare. I padded downstairs, claws clicking on the wood. Now I faced the problem of a lack of thumbs. A three hundred pound werewolf is a pretty massive beast, and I had some serious second thoughts about knocking walls out when my tail swept a glass off the counter. Maybe Rob had a point there.

The glass would have to wait until I was human again, but my stomach rumbled, reminding me of more pressing matters. I needed protein. I eyed the handle of the new fridge and again regretted the lack of thumbs. The old one had a slightly leaky seal, and had been easy enough to nose open if I found myself in this situation, but the new one was closed up tight. Maybe I could get my jaws around the handle without leaving too much tooth damage behind. I got my mouth on it and tugged, but the seal didn’t give, so I changed my angle and tried again, giving it a sharp tug. Canine jaws are not designed for opening refrigerator doors. Plastic cracked, and the fridge made an ominous noise. I leapt back hastily when the whole damn thing overbalanced and came crashing down where I’d been standing.

My leap carried me backwards right into the narrow closet we used as a pantry, and the flimsy door smashed under impact. My wolf’s bulk knocked all the shelves askew, sending boxes, bottles, and canned goods cascading down on my head. I yelped, tried to scramble away, and slipped in a puddle of something. This time my clumsiness took out the cabinet with the pots and pans, adding to the clamour. An attempt at traction dug furrows in the old linoleum courtesy of the wolf’s claws. I broke the pulls off half a dozen drawers trying to shake a stock pot off one of my hind feet, and accidentally put my shoulder through the doors of the cabinet under the sink in the process.

Worst of all, I was still hungry, and most of the food was in the fridge, which I’d knocked on its front, so I couldn’t even get it open. It was blocking the door to the basement, so I couldn’t go get a hunk of something frozen out of the chest freezer either. I was going to starve to death as a wolf in my own kitchen, surrounded by carnage of my own making, my fur dusted with something powdery and sticky with some unknown substance.

...Which was pretty much how Rob found me when he walked in the door half an hour later. I’d found a forgotten box of cookies that must have been at the very back of the pantry and tore up the cardboard and plastic liner to get at them, which just meant my muzzle was liberally dusted with cookie crumbs when I backed my ears and gave him a shamefaced look. His mobile face was frozen as a statue as he took it all in.

He finally moved, picking his way through the sticky carnage of our kitchen. None of the mess dared to get on _him_. He fished the phone out of an overturned gunny sack of rice and dangled it at me.

“Sweet and sour pork, or beef and broccoli?”

I whined and tucked my tail.

“Right. Both.”

He could have yelled at me. By all rights, he should have. If I hadn’t let my stomach get the better of me, I wouldn’t have destroyed the kitchen. There was a right way and a wrong way to tear out an old kitchen for a renovation, and I’d just done it all wrong because my stupid wolf couldn’t wait to eat. He ruffled my ears and called the little late night takeout place we liked to put in an order big enough for a peewee football league. I licked his hand in gratitude and got a bemused look in return.

“Now, let me see.” Rob drives a motorcycle, but he carries the biggest keychain I’ve ever seen outside of a soccer mom’s purse. He flicked through keys and fobs until he found a crudely carved wooden frog, green with bright purple spots. “This ought to do the trick.”

I tilted my head and cocked my ears at him, not sure what he was up to and unable to ask with words. He held his finger to his lips and snapped the frog in two.

A funny little sparkle in the corner caught my eye. It twinkled out of sight, reappearing over the ruins of the pantry. The puddle of soup and mess shrank in on itself right before my eyes, vanishing with a modest pop. Everywhere I looked, the splintered cabinets and food were tidying themselves intuitive neat piles. None of the twinkling magic touched the metal appliances, but the aluminum and copper pots and pans drifted into a neat stack. The fridge stayed where it was, but Rob strode over and lifted it back into place with the same casual strength I’d seen him display on a few occasions. I ducked my head to see the tooth marks I’d left in the handle, and heard all manner of things rattle around when he righted the appliance.

“Do I even want to know how this all started?” he asked. I gave him my guilty dog face again, and Rob just shook his head and smiled a little. “All right, you can tell me when you’re human again. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He opened the door to the back porch and gestured for me to follow. I gave him a questioning look. His magic was doing a pretty good job on the kitchen.

“That spell’s not designed to work on living things,” Rob said with a roguish smile. “And you don’t fit in the bathtub like that.”

So I sighed and padded after him to endure my penance. In this case, that meant getting hosed down with icy water from the garden hose out back. I pinned my ears and let him spray the gunk out of my fur. Somehow, even when I shook myself dry, Rob managed to avoid getting caught in the blast radius.

“Maybe you should demolish the bathroom while you’re still on all fours,” Rob mused. “We could put in a bigger tub.”

I grunted and folded my ears back to let him know I didn’t think that was funny, and he just smiled at me. The sound of the delivery driver’s car out front made me perk up, though. I followed Rob back into the house. The smell of the food reached me and made my mouth water even before he opened the front door to take it and pay. Rob pushed me behind him when I came over to sniff inquisitively. I head-butted his thigh. I wanted to eat the food, not the delivery driver.

“Whoa,” commented the teenage boy as he handed the last bag over. “Cool dog. What breed is he?”

Rob blinked wide blue eyes. “Werewolf.”

The kid laughed. “Yeah, right, man. Enjoy your meal!”

We had different ideas about eating. I would have happily buried my whole head in the cartons, but Rob made me wait. It was a little tricky to get used to the generous bites of noodles Rob fed me from a pair of chopsticks, but the look on his face when I figured it out was worth the effort. I wasn’t sure how much of the meal he ate, but I finished off everything else. Finally sated, I put my head in his lap in silent apology for making the mess in the first place. He stroked my ears, humming some strange song that lulled my wolf just enough to calm down.

The full stomach helped a lot. Only when I felt fully back in control did I pull away enough to try and Change back to my normal self. It left me buck naked on the living room rug breathing like I’d run a marathon when I finished, but the blinds were closed, and it was just me and Rob. He gave me the minute I needed to catch my breath.

“Sorry,” I panted guiltily when I could speak again.

“For what?” Rob asked. “Parading naked in front of me never requires an apology.”

“No, not that.” I ran my fingers through my short, sweaty hair. “The kitchen.”

“I did wonder why you were a wolf with the full moon still two weeks off.”

“Bad dream,” I admitted with a grimace. “Kicked my wolf into gear before I finished waking up. Happens sometimes.”

Rob cracked open a fortune cookie. “Just think of the labor costs you’ve spared us for the kitchen demolition. I could rent you out for this.”

“That seems like a bad idea,” I said with a weak chuckle. “I sure as hell didn’t mean for that to happen. I was just so damn hungry when the Change finished, and it seemed like a better option than huntin’ down the neighbors’ stupid cat.”

“That would have been unfortunate,” Rob mused. “Mostly for the cat.” I’ve never seen a cat that liked werewolves. One of our neighbors had a black and white fuzzball who absolutely hated me on sight. The thing would zip up the nearest tree or fence any time it spotted me and cuss me out in feline until I was out of its radius.

I sighed. “Well, I guess we’re startin’ the kitchen renovation a little sooner than we planned.”

“All’s well that ends well?” he quipped, waving the little strip of paper from his cookie in one hand.

“I suppose.” I leaned over to root through the takeout bags. “There anything left or did we finish it all?”

Rob laughed. “ _You_ finished it all, Sam.”

Oh. I glanced up at him. “Oops?”

“Werewolves,” he sighed, but there was a smile on his face. “I think the stove survived the carnage, though the refrigerator may be a lost cause. If the steaks I had marinating made it through relatively unscathed, I’ll cook them up for you.” Rob rose to his feet.

“I love you,” I said, a plaintive note in my voice.

“I know,” he replied, shooting a smug and far too knowing glance back over his shoulder. “I love me, too.”

Shaking my head, I heaved myself to my feet and stumbled toward the bathroom to shower off the sweat the Change had left behind. Shifting twice in a little over an hour was still a pretty serious drag on my body when I hadn’t been expecting it. I’d happily let Rob feed me steak and put me to bed. There had been enough disasters for one night already.

 

~~~~~~

 

I gave the polished granite top of the brand new kitchen island one last swipe with a rag, and stepped back. Six weeks of renovation work, mostly done in the evenings and on weekends, had gone into fixing up the kitchen after my wolf had wrecked large sections of it. Six weeks of takeout would’ve been an awful shock after all of Rob’s fancy cooking, so we’d made good use of the barbecue grill on the back porch during that time, too. It’d been a little rustic, in Rob’s words, but a better alternative than pizza or Chinese food every night. But now the kitchen was finally finished.

I stepped back beside my boyfriend to take it all in. “Well, what do you think?”

He slipped past me through the doorway I’d widened to help open up the space so it flowed into the next room better. He trailed his fingertips over the white marble we’d used for the perimeter to contrast the dark granite on the island. The whitewashed cabinets with their brass hardware really did lighten up the place, and the under-cabinet lighting made the marble shine. “It’s beautiful, Sam.”

The breath I’d been holding slipped out in a pleased sigh. The refinished hardwood flooring that had been under the old linoleum was cool beneath my bare feet. “I do love seein’ a project come together at the end,” I admitted with a smile. “And you were right, it’s a lot better this way.”

“Of course I was right, but you were wise to listen to me,” Rob said, his grin teasing. “It just needs one thing.”

“What’s that?” With Rob, that ‘one thing’ could be any number of equally lewd options. My boyfriend had an… interesting sense of humor.

“This.” He pulled out a knotted doggy rope pull toy like the one I’d gotten for Rosie, and fastened one end around the handle of the new fridge we’d put in to replace the one I’d knocked over and killed. “There. This way if you find yourself on four feet again and too hungry to wait for me to come home, you can get yourself a snack without destroying this lovely new kitchen.”

My face heated. “You ain’t never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

He laughed. “Sam, your fur was full of cornmeal and molasses, and you were scarfing down oatmeal cookies when I found you. Be glad I didn’t have a camera.”

“I am eternally grateful you didn’t have a camera,” I told him. He smirked. “So,” I continued, “the kitchen’s officially remodeled. No more take out or grillin’ unless we want it. What’d you want to make first?”

Mischief sparked in his eyes. “Chinese.”

“You’re terrible,” I said, and moved to pin him against the new island. Rob boosted himself up to sit on the granite countertop before I could trap him and chuckled at me.

“But you love me anyway,” he said, looping his arms around my neck.

“You put up with my wolf. How could I not love you?” I said. I decided I liked him where he was even better. The new position put his head level with mine.

“I ask myself that question all the time.” Rob’s voice was light as a feather, but I trusted the heat in his eyes. My wolf wasn’t the only possessive one.

I put my hands on his trim waist and tugged him closer to the edge of the counter. “You’re still terrible,” I said with a grin and a growl, and leaned in to steal a kiss he returned with enough heat to fair take my breath away. His fingers twined in my short hair, and when Rob pulled away long enough to chuckle and murmur a suggestion in my ear, all thoughts of eating fled. I was still hungry all right, but not for food. Rob had that effect on me. Frequently.

 

~~~~~~

 

We ended up ordering out for Chinese that evening anyway, despite the newly finished kitchen, but I don’t think either of us regretted it. We may have gotten a little carried away, but at least nothing got broken this time around. After the disaster my wolf had made of the old kitchen, I’d done what I could to shore up and reinforce everything to prevent a repeat of that from happening. Rob had been more than happy to test the robustness of my carpentry skills… And I’d been pleased to oblige him.

“So,” Rob purred, cracking open the last fortune cookie. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?” I raised a brow at him. “That’s usually a dangerous sign.”

He grinned at me. “About the downstairs bathroom…”

 

~~~~~~

 

**Fin**


End file.
